Fortuitous Find
by Naruto-junky
Summary: Fortutius Find-THE REMAKE. Yes, this was Kamerron's but she kindly let me have it. Harry travels forwards in time 25 years! Love, betrayal, and victory! Slash, don't like? Then DON"T READ! That simple. HP/SM, DM/AG, RW/HG
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters owned and created by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Scorpius/Harry, Draco/Astoria, Neville/Hannah, and Ron/Hermione.

Rating: M

Warnings: Slash: Male homosexual relationships, violence, adult language, mild sexual situations, implied sexual intercourse, Post-DH, EWE, and Time Travel.

**Fortuitous Find**

Harry Potter clutched Draco Malfoy's hawthorn wand in his hand. This was it—his whole life had come down to this moment—he would either defeat Voldemort, and fulfill his destiny, or he would fail, and the most feared Dark Lord would take over the world for he would have no true opposition.

"I defeated Malfoy," he whispered. "The question is: does the Elder Wand recognize me as its true master? Does the Elder Wand know this?"

Rage suffused Voldemort's face, and he lifted the Elder Wand, aiming it at the wizard who was potentially its master. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus_." Harry watched as the spells sped towards each other. He saw the Elder Wand rip itself from Voldemort's hand and fly through the air; it arched, nearly reached the ceiling, and then it fell down. Harry's hand shot out and caught it. His fingers curled around the wand as the two spells slammed into one another.

A sound echoed in the room, booming loudly. The spell he'd cast forced most of the Killing Curse to reverse, but a small part of it continued on toward Harry Potter. The sheer power hanging in the air froze him in place, and he was unable to move as that trickle of sickly green light continued to race through the air at him. It crashed into his chest just as he saw Voldemort get hit with the majority of the spell. He watched his nemesis crumple to the floor, looking sunken and defeated, and though he should have felt triumph, all that passed through his body was an intense feeling of relief.

The sense of peace he felt knowing he'd fulfilled the prophecy and avenged his parents was only overcome by the agony that tore through his body as he fell backwards. Then his hip began to burn fiercely and he spared a brief thought to the resurrection stone that was in his pocket. There was a flash of magic and he felt the Elder Wand heat up in his hand as well. He fell back and landed on the invisibility cloak, which was warm and rippling.

All three items glowed briefly, and then the Hallows did what they were meant to do—they saved their master from death. The cloak wrapped around Harry Potter, and he vanished just as the barrier he'd cast to protect everyone else came crashing down.

They rushed forward, calling his name frantically, but he wasn't there. Harry Potter was gone.

When Harry next awoke, he was lying on his back, staring up at a beautiful blue sky. Puffy white clouds hung still; there was no breeze to move them along. He felt the soft green grass beneath his hands and wondered if this was Heaven.

A wry and sad smile appeared on his face. He'd died again—twice in one day. That was all right though. He'd seen Voldemort die with his own eyes. He'd succeeded, and now everyone that he cared about and trusted would be able to live their lives without the terror that had haunted them for so many years.

He moved his hand slightly and felt the liquid sensation of his invisibility cloak lying beneath him. He fisted it tightly in his hands as memories washed through him: his first real Christmas present, the Mirror of Erised, late night visits to the kitchen, sneaking out to see Hagrid, saving Sirius in third year, and many more.

He rolled over onto the grass and winced as the stone dug into his hip and two pieces of wood pressed into his back. First, he picked up the piece of hawthorn, and handled it lovingly—Draco Malfoy's wand—he'd defeated Lord Voldemort because of Draco Malfoy. He chuckled softly, almost in disbelief. He slid it into his pocket and reached for the other wand, the Elder Wand: Grindelwald's wand, Dumbledore's wand, Malfoy's wand, his wand.

Harry pushed it into his pocket as well. He folded the invisibility cloak methodically—his mind kept wandering. He was dead. He had to be dead, but then, why weren't his parents here? Where was Sirius? Had he been sent to a different place than them?

He lay on his back, taking deep breaths to keep himself from panicking. He tried to focus on the white clouds—that wouldn't happen to him! It couldn't, not after everything he'd been through. He was staring at the non-moving clouds almost viciously when his vision was overcome by a piercing shade of gray. "Malfoy?" he asked in confusion. "Draco Malfoy—you died?"

The gray eyes widened and the blond head shook. "No, I'm Scorpius Malfoy, Draco is my father." Those eyes narrowed slightly and scanned his features intently, stopping on the scar. "You're Harry Potter," he breathed in disbelief.

Harry nodded his head slowly. Of course he was Harry Potter; everyone knew that, much to his distaste. "Wait, Draco's son?" he asked in confusion.

He nodded. "You disappeared twenty-five years ago," Scorpius answered.

Harry's jaw dropped and he jumped to his feet in disbelief. He spun around to see that he'd been lying on the rolling lawn of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He pulled the Elder Wand from his pocket. "_Tempus_," he muttered. He read the glowing words several time before his mind finally processed them. 10:47 a.m. Thursday May 4, 2023.

His whole frame began trembling, and he didn't hear Scorpius calling his name. His head swung left and right, frantically looking at the scenery that was so familiar, but different. The lawns were smooth once more, and the air smelled fresh and clean. The scent of death and pain was gone, as were the dead bodies that had given their blood for the ground to drink.

A large monument off to his side—by the edge of the lake right next to Dumbledore's white tomb—drew his attention and he slowly approached it. It was black marble, a direct contrast to the white stone of the Headmaster's resting place. He ran his fingers over the words engraved in the lightning bolt: Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, and Conqueror. May he live forever in our memories and never be forgotten.

Harry's eye ran up the large monument and locked onto the symbol at the top. It was a triangle, with a line down the middle, inside of a circle. "The Hallows." His finger touched the tip of the lightning bolt, tracing the symbol, and memories assailed him. They were memories of his life, of his pain, suffering, and secrets, memories that the Weasleys, Hermione, and so many others had offered to share, so that the world would know who the Boy Who Lived had been.

Harry wrapped an arm around himself and trembled in fear. He felt bare, naked, without protection from the harsh gaze of the world. Everything he was, everything he'd ever been had been shown without his permission. He'd been betrayed by those he'd thought he could trust. They'd always known he'd hated the public tearing away his privacy and invading his life, and these people had striped him raw.

All that he knew was that those who had always sworn to stand beside him had betrayed him. And now—now all he could do was accept that nothing about his life was sacred anymore, and that he had no secrets.

They'd shown him at his lowest, when he'd been broken by Sirius's death, desperately wanting nothing more than to follow his godfather off the mortal plane. They'd shown him torn open and bloody as he wept over Cedric's dead body.

Every bad memory that he had, that someone had seen, seemed to be embedded into this statue. It was a living monument of his nightmares, his personal hell, and it replayed over and over without end.

His shoulders began to shake, and he felt despair overwhelming him. The darkness that he'd been fighting his whole life was welling up inside of him. The emotions were eating away at him: despair, loss, worthlessness, pity, fear, anger, hatred, and loneliness—God, the loneliness.

The emotions tore through him, and his eyes welled with agonizing tears as the memories shifted to the horrors no one had seen. He was watching a flash of green light streak towards him, and his mother's dying screams were echoing through his head. He was four years old and he'd just dropped a burning hot skillet on his foot, while his aunt screamed at him in the background. He was seven and he was locked inside the cupboard under the stairs—no matter how he moved the spiders continued to crawl all over him and the darkness ate away at his vision. He was in primary school, and the children were calling him a freak and picking on him, telling him that no one would ever love him.

The blood drained from Harry's face as the memories jumped ahead to his time at Hogwarts. He was in the Forbidden Forest watching a wraith-like creature drink the blood of a Unicorn. His hands were pressed to Quirrell's face, and the man's skin was melting. He was staring down at Hermione, one of his two friends, as she lay petrified in the infirmary. The Basilisk's fang punctured his arm, and the poison was burning through his body. The Dementors were eating away at him, draining him of happiness. Sirius's dying scream resounded through the castle as he was kissed, and Harry hadn't been able to save him—then the Time Turner changed that, but Sirius was gone anyway, he never got to live with his godfather.

He was in the graveyard at Little Hangleton, bound and helpless as Wormtail stole his blood and resurrected Voldemort. He was facing the Wizengamot and possible expulsion from the only true home he'd ever known. Harry's hand was torn open and bloody from the lines Umbridge was forcing him to write. Sirius was falling through the veil, and Lupin wouldn't let him follow. Voldemort was inside his mind, possessing him, and he felt dirty, tainted—a failure.

He stared in disbelief as the curse tore from his wand and ripped Malfoy's chest open; blood was raining through the air. He was travelling across a lake of Inferi moments before he would be forced to force a potion down the Headmaster's throat, unknowingly aiding in Dumbledore's death. He was frozen in place and Severus Snape was speaking those hateful two words. He could do nothing but watch the Headmaster plummet from the Astronomy Tower.

The horrific memories of his life continued to assail his mind. This monument—this betrayal—had been made in his honor. The fools had made Harry Potter's personal Dementor.

Scorpius watched as Harry trembled and shook, saw his eyes widen in terror. His father had been right to contest the statue. In fact, Neville Longbottom and the surviving Slytherins had all protested its creation; they'd lost the fight.

Not one of the people who truly understood, or cared for Harry had viewed those memories or aided in its creation. It was a matter of honor—pureblood honor, and a repayment for the debt that everyone in the wizarding world owed Harry Potter.

The Malfoys, Draco in particular, had been disgusted by it, and what Harry's former friends had done to him. They'd copied all of their memories of Harry into this monument so that he'd never be forgotten, and in so doing, they'd betrayed Harry in the worst way. They had torn away the last remnants of his privacy and exposed him to the world—his secrets weren't even his own in death.

Draco had forbidden Scorpius from touching it and he never had.

He'd learned about Harry Potter from his father. The stories were always honest, and even when Draco was cast in a bad light, he still told the truth. Potter had saved his family, and he would repay that debt by honoring Harry Potter, and what his rival would have wished for.

Scorpius walked forward, closing the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around the shuddering man protectively. Harry Potter was alive—he was alive! And now he would see just what the truth was, and how he'd been misled.

Harry leaned back against the muscled chest and continued to cry. He didn't understand why they'd done what they'd done, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He'd been betrayed—again. He was surprised, disappointed, and livid with himself for caring for those people all of these years only to have been betrayed by them yet again.

Scorpius reached forward and entwined his hand with Harry's gently pulling the boy's fingers away from the stone, stopping the memories from flashing before Harry's eyes.

Harry was enfolded back against Scorpius's chest and he glanced up slowly, watching as Scorpius glared at the stone with loathing. "Father tried to keep them from making it," he said. "Yet, they made it anyway," he spat.

Harry relaxed completely against the son of the man who'd been his greatest rival for years. His eyes hardened, and disdain and rage began to overtake the gut-wrenching horror and sorrow. He had no doubt that Scorpius's words were true. If he knew one thing about the Malfoys, he knew that they valued family and honor above everything. He'd saved their family, thus, they would treat him with respect and honor the sacrifice they'd believed he had made.

"They'll pay," he vowed. "There can be no forgiveness for this—no redemption."

Scorpius didn't disagree. He simply tightened his arms and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. The legend of Harry Potter may fascinate others, but he'd always been fascinated by the boy that was Harry Potter. The boy that'd beat his father in every Quidditch game they'd ever played, the boy who'd torn his father open with a deadly curse, and had then shown remorse for harming someone who'd been about to cast an Unforgivable on him, and the boy who'd sent his grandfather to Azkaban.

The same boy who'd saved his family, after his grandmother had lied to the Dark Lord about Harry's death, resulting in his downfall.

This boy in his arms wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man and he'd been damaged. If Harry had accepted his father's hand in friendship all those years ago, life would have been different. Now, he would do what he'd been dreaming of since he'd first heard the stories of Harry Potter. The sixteen year old loosened his arms for a moment and slowly and carefully spun Harry around. He stared into those solemn green eyes.

Scorpius extended his hand and whispered, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy." Would it be the same? Would he be rejected as well—or would life change?

Harry smirked and extended his own, wrapping his calloused palm around the smooth, pale hand. "Potter, Harry Potter."

**Edit - 6/1/13. Disclaimer/Warnings list was revised: there will be very mild sexual situations and there will be no graphic sexual intercourse, implied happenings only! Rating at the top was changed from MA/R/NC-17 to M. These mistakes about future content was brought to my attention by The Familiar Fox, who was under the impression that this story would break the rules. **


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters owned and created by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Scorpius/Harry, Draco/Astoria, Neville/Hannah, and Ron/Hermione.

Rating: NC-17/R/MA

Warnings: Slash: Male homosexual relationships, violence, adult language, sexual situations, sexual intercourse, Post-DH, EWE, and Time Travel.

**Fortuitous Find**

**Chapter Two**

Scorpius just stared at Harry, hardly believing of the situation he'd found himself in. When he'd come outside during his free period to get away from the many admirers, he certainly hadn't expected to find Harry Potter. The man had been missing for twenty-five years now.

He felt a slight tug and glanced down to see that Harry's hand was retreating from his. For one moment, he was overcome with panic and he wanted nothing more than to snatch that hand back into his grasp. However, good manners would not allow him to act in such a way.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Is McGonagall still the Headmistress?" Harry suddenly asked. She was one of a small number of people he'd trusted that hadn't betrayed him by spilling his secrets for the world to see.

"Yes she is," Scorpius replied. "I can take you to her."

Though it wasn't really a question, Harry felt it would only be proper to answer. After all, Scorpius Malfoy was the closest thing he had to a real friend at the moment. "Yes, I need to see her," he said.

Scorpius nodded and turned around, leading the way across the grounds.

Harry followed along, his mind in a whirl of confusion. Twenty-five years? Merlin, his godson Teddy was an adult now! He could be married! Harry winced as that thought crossed his mind. Tonks and Remus has entrusted their son to him and he'd failed as a godfather. He could only hope that the boy had been well taken care of.

As they walked up the steps and entered Hogwarts, he could feel its magic reach out and caress him. He trailed his fingers across the stone lovingly before following Scorpius through the Entrance Hall and up the staircase. His eyes were darting around, noting differences. Some of the portraits had been moved, or were missing all together. A hallway that had previously been full of suits of armor was lined with tapestries.

If he hadn't been explicitly told that he'd traveled forward in time, he would have simply assumed that Hogwarts had rearranged itself once again. Yet, the smooth lawn and the Tempus Spell had proven the truth of Scorpius's words.

His attention centered quickly when they approached the stone gargoyle. It looked exactly the same as it had before. He allowed a soft smile to appear on his face. Even if the world was changing around him, it was good to know that one of the Hogwarts' guardians remained unchanged.

"Padfoot," Scorpius said succinctly.

Harry's heard jerked back at the password, shock and pain flaring through his eyes. Sirius... Sirius had been dead for over a quarter of a century now to the rest of the world, and not even two years to him. The aching throb in his chest may have dulled slightly over time, but Harry doubted that it would ever fade away.

Scorpius saw him twitch back and asked, "Is something the matter?"

"No, not at all," he replied.

"Are you certain?" His gray eyes blinked and he scanned Harry from top to bottom, Harry's condition finally penetrating the shock of finding Harry Potter alive and well at Hogwarts.

Harry was covered in blood; it was caked and dried on his body. He had tired smudges under his eyes that would surely become bruises if he weren't allowed to rest soon. His shoulders were lowered, as if the weight of the world still resided upon them, for their master had not yet been able to process the fact that he was free. Or perhaps it was the weight of betrayal that now weighed him down, not the weight of the wizarding world's safety.

Scorpius reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He aimed it at Harry and opened his mouth to speak, but found himself slammed against the wall with a wand at his throat before he could speak. "I should have known that—" Harry began bitterly.

"You're covered in blood," Scorpius stated calmly as he cocked an eyebrow. "I thought it'd be best to remove it before you saw the Headmistress."

Harry glanced down at himself in shock, and then blushed slightly when he realized that Scorpius was telling the truth. He lowered his wand and backed away. "I'm sorry, it's just habit. I don't like it when people point their wands at me."

Scorpius would have smacked himself for not realizing that earlier if he'd been anything but a Malfoy. He needed to remember that while it'd been over two decades since the war in his time, Harry had left the final battle mere moments ago. Of course, he was going to be twitchy and defensive. "May I?" he asked.

Harry nodded slowly, but kept a careful eye on Scorpius's wand.

"_Scourgify_," Scorpius said as his flicked his wand precisely. The blood that had been caked and smeared on Harry vanished, leaving him looking less gruesome than he had moments ago.

"Thank you," Harry said.

Scorpius nodded once as he appraised the cleaner Harry Potter. He was very fit, but he still looked exhausted. "Should we make a detour to the Hospital Wing before seeing the Headmistress?" he asked. Once again, that was something he should have asked immediately. His father would have been disgusted with him; he was being an imbecile.

"We're already here," Harry said, motioning at the gargoyle.

Scorpius sighed. Harry was just as stubborn as his father had told him. "Let me rephrase that, are you injured and in need of medical assistance?" he inquired.

Harry's lips twitched and he sniggered softly. "No, I'm fine. I think the magic healed me when I was sent here. I don't feel any injuries."

"All right then, let's proceed." He stepped forward and onto the staircase, knowing that it wouldn't start moving until Harry was on it as well. The sound of soft footsteps behind him let him know that Harry was on it, and that was confirmed a moment later when the staircase began revolving.

His back muscles bunched up; he hated having someone at his back, it went against everything he'd been taught. However, this was Harry Potter, and if his father was correct, Harry was too much of a Gryffindor to hex him from behind. Also, he knew that there was no chance in hell Harry would have gotten on first and given his back to Scorpius.

When they got to the top, he reached forward and knocked, waiting only for the immediate acknowledgement before opening the door.

"Mr. Malfoy, how may I assist—Harry!" Minerva McGonagall dropped her quill and stared in shock. Harry, it was Harry Potter. "Is it really you?" she asked as she pressed a badly shaking hand to her chest.

"Yes professor, it's me," Harry assured her.

While her mouth was opening and closing soundlessly, Snape and Dumbledore's portraits commented on the situation. "It's about time you showed up, idiot boy," Snape snapped.

"Wonderful to see you, dear boy!" Dumbledore said. "Where might you have been all this time?"

"Here," Harry replied.

"We're not in the mood for your idiocy, Potter. If you were here the stupid dunderheads wouldn't have been wailing hysterically about your demise for the last two decades," Snape snarled.

"Severus, really!" McGonagall said, offended by his tone of voice.

Harry's eyes grew hard as his ex-friends were mentioned. If they'd really been as broken as Snape's comment implied they would have kept the memories to themselves. He clenched his jaw. "I never left, sir. One moment I was facing Voldemort and the next I was waking up outside on the grounds. Thus, I have been here all this time."

Snape's lips twitched the barest bit at the way he'd twisted the words. "And how, idiot boy—"

"Now, now, Severus, there's no need to be rude to young Harry," Dumbledore patronized. He turned his eerily twinkling eyes on Harry once more. "The Hallows, dear boy?"

Harry inclined his head slightly. "Yes, that's the only explanation that makes sense," he conceded.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

Harry's lips twitched, and then he started sniggering softly. His gaze swung over to McGonagall's desk, and the corner that Albus had always had a dish of lemon drops on. It was still there. "No thanks," he replied. His gaze moved slightly to the right, and he focused on McGonagall for the first time. Her hair was almost completely gray now, and her face had more wrinkles than it had the last time he'd seen her.

He inhaled deeply as he realized that there was no logical way to refute the facts he'd been presented with. He really had been sent forward in time by the Hallows. He was twenty-five years in the future, and everyone he'd known had aged those twenty-five years while he'd stayed the same. Some of them had betrayed him, some were surely dead, and others had likely moved on, essentially forgetting the boy who'd once been known as friend to them.

"—ry! Harry!" His head snapped up as the shouted words finally pierced the fog in his mind. "Are you all right?" Scorpius asked a tinge of concern in his voice.

"No, I don't think I am," Harry replied slowly.

A moment later he found himself being pushed down on a couch that McGonagall had just transfigured from one of the stiff-backed chairs. "Rest, Mr. Potter," she ordered primly, though the concern in her eyes belied the slight annoyance her voice conveyed.

"Yes professor," he replied obediently.

Scorpius had just perched on the edge of the couch, when someone knocked firmly on the door. His gaze moved from Harry to Professor McGonagall as she muttered about visits from School Board Governors. He heard her give her consent to enter, and then blinked in shock as his father walked into the room.

"Minerva," Draco drawled, "it's so nice to see you." His eyes scanned the room as they always did when he entered, and his upper lip curled slightly. He paused when he noticed that his son was present. "Has my son—Potter!" he gasped in disbelief, for Scorpius had shifted at that moment, unknowingly allowing his father a direct line of sight to the previously missing savior. "Potter." Draco walked across the room slowly, uncaring that he seemed unable to string a sentence together. "Potter," he said for the third time.

"Yes Malfoy?" Harry asked cheekily. He'd never gotten to see this side of Draco Malfoy before, and it was amusing him greatly. He stared into those gray eyes that were exactly the same. Draco looked much as Lucius had the first time Harry had met him in Flourish and Blotts, except that his face was pointier.

Draco finally managed to get control of himself. He smirked and lifted one imperious eyebrow, just as he'd done when they were schoolmates. "What're you doing here, scarhead?" he asked, though his voice was not full of maliciousness as it'd been all those years ago.

Harry tilted his head to the side as a smirk worthy of a Marauder spread across his face. He reached into his pocket and carefully removed the hawthorn wand, Malfoy's wand. He held it up in his hand and said, "Why, I came to return this to you of course, ferret."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

**Fortuitous Find**

Scorpius was slightly shocked at the banter between his father and the archrival that was held in such high respects in their house. His father was bantering… a thing he never did even with his mother. It was refreshing. Slowly, as to not make himself overly known, or shock Harry (who had after all just left a battlefield.) Scorpius lightly lifted himself off the armrest and moved away from the two men. He saw both sets of eyes flicker over to him briefly, even though he made no obvious movement. He tensed slightly as he always did when he turned his back to the three others. He was like most Slytherins in that respect. They were taught to never relax while anyone but the most trusted were at their back. And he didn't exactly trust McGonagall. He had always trusted his father, that was a given. Though he didn't exactly not trust Harry, the reaction when he pulled his wand out so that he could clean off all that blood, he had to shake himself as he remembered how all that blood got there. He trusted Harry very much for only meeting him such a short while ago. But then you can't forget that he had only just left a fight for his life, then went through his best friends betrayal.

"Oh Harry! You're alive!" screeched a high pitch voice that instantly grated the nerves of all in the room. Today was a Governors Meeting and for 'providing such services to the school and the magical community at large' the Weasleys had been provided a seat on the governing board of Hogwarts. And, though his father would deny it until his dying day, Draco had no problem with the idea at first. He had admitted that not all of the Weasleys were that bad. The older children were reasonable and saw more of the gray than most Light families. But than they gave the spot to Mrs. Hermione Weasley nee Granger. She was about as bad as they got, a real stickler for the rules and safety and, according to his father, worse than Umbridge had been. Scorpius turned to warily watch his new found friend's reaction. Scorpius had never had a friend, no matter how close, betray him. And giving up all your secrets for the whole world to see, was the lowest blow that could be delivered.

"Granger," was the short reply. A look of confusion crossed her face before she was a happy again.

"Oh, McGonagall didn't tell you? Me and Ron got married!" she squealed in a high perky voice.

"Weasley, then," was the chilled reply.

"What's the matter, Harry?" That was the worst question to ask of an irate wizard, more powerful then Voldemort and Dumbledore combined.

"What's the matter! What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter-" he started to rant, standing up before Draco pulled him back down to the couch and hissing furiously in his ear. Harry instantly agreed, turning as cold as ice.

"Granger," the Weasley tried to object, but his father barreled on, "You and your husband and the rest of the supporters of the Harry Potter Remembrance Memorial, are now being sued by Harry James Potter, Head of the House of Potter, Heir to the house Black. I will be representing him," Draco said in a dead monotone voice. As the woman started to sputter and rant.

Draco signaled to Harry and his son, followed by pointing to the door. Scorpius nodded and gently nudged Harry, ready for the quick whip around and alert look. He grabbed his hand gently and pulled him to the door. They walked down the staircase and snuck along the hallway to a passage that Harry and never seen before. They slowed down on the walkway, neither noticed that their hands were still clasped tightly together. At the end of the corridor there was a door with a Slytherin symbol on the door.

"Aconite," the student said, and the door swung open to show a fire. A whispered spell later the flames died, and they stepped into the common room.

The entire room turned to look in surprise. "He wasn't here, got it?" Scorpius asked in a authoritative tone. Everyone in the room nodded.

"Shall I get Professor Longbottom?" asked a small second year. At the affirmative nod, the girl raced away.

Harry seemed dazed so Scorpius gently tugged on his hand and led him to the 7th year dorms.

"Neville is head of Slytherin house? Neville Longbottom? I'd have never guessed that Neville would have ever…. What does he teach?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"He teaches Herbology. Traditionally, he should be teaching Potions but as most of the teachers were not ex-Slytherins who, as a rule, were completely against the plan of the Memorial, they were Ravenclaws and the rare Gryffindor who all supported it. We boycotted them. No classes. We wouldn't talk to them and did rather mean pranks. Eventually, McGonagall asked who we wanted and he was the one we wanted. He fought hard against it," Scorpius explained. Harry nodded. That sounded like Neville who, though quiet, was loyal like a Hufflepuff, brave like a Gryffindor.

Harry's eyes slowly began to droop and the Slytherin noticed. Scorpius slowly reached out, put his hands on the other man's shoulders, and pushed him back onto the bed. Harry resisted, but Scorpius pushed harder. "You really should sleep. You just left a battle and found yourself 25 years in the future. I'm surprised that you haven't gone into shock, now you can either take a nap or I can take you to see Madam Brown, alright?" Harry nodded drowsily. Barely taking the time to wonder if Madam Brown was Lavender.

**A/N: Alright, as some of you know KAMERREON was the first one to write this, but being the kind person that she is, let me have it. I know there is a noticeable writing style difference, and there is nothing I can do about that. I could always rewrite the first two chapters but I like how she started it. So it will remain that way. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Fortuitous Find **

Scorpius was reading on Zane Zabini's bed when Professor Longbottom came in. He nodded to the boy and walked over to Harry, being cautious, he gently spoke his name and lightly touched his arm. He didn't react when Harry jumped and grabbed Neville's arm before he registered who it was. It turned the defensive reaction into a affectionate embrace, pulling the other man down on top of him.

Not wanting to intrude, Scorpius got up and went into the common room, perching on the brick ledge that was near the fire place. It was his favorite place to sit even though it got his clothes dirty. It was always warm because the fire was, at most, two feet away.

"So, you want to explain why a man, who bares a striking resemblance to Harry Potter, is laying in the Seventh year boy's dorm, talking with Professor Longbottom?" asked Zane. He was his mother's son, more so than his father's. Zane was a very tall boy, who, though having his father's build, had his mother's pale complexion and blonde hair. But Zane did have his father's eyes.

"The professor will explain when he comes out," Scorpius said Zane nodded and sat down next to him and they read together This used to make Scorpius slightly uncomfortable, he knew that Zane sort of kind of liked him romantically, but they both knew that it would never worked out, so they had pushed on with their friendship and it didn't bug him anymore.

* * *

"How did you get back here, Harry?" Neville asked Harry, his arm still wrapped around his shoulders and holding him close to his side. He had thought his best friend was gone for the past 25 years… not only had he thought that, but he was sure that he had failed him when that stupid monument was put in.

Since becoming teacher he had done his best to be fair, but had, at times, found himself doing the same thing he despised Severus for doing all those years ago. Ravenclaws put up with him (They were extremely upset that the past Ravenclaw teachers had been replaced with a man who wasn't even teaching Potions, the traditional class of a Slytherin Head of House.); Hufflepuffs loved him (He was fair and patient.); and Slytherins hadn't gone to class until the Headmistress had brought him in, but the Gryfinndors hated him. (He knew for a fact that they had a picture of him on the dart board on the common room.) Teaching so many students with so many mixed feelings made it hard to be objective. But he tried.

When the monument was installed, he went to the Slytherins and explicitly told them anyone who touched that memory stone was getting detention, revoked Hogsmeade privileges (and for those to young to go, they would never get to see it), and he would take so many points that Slytherin would never have a chance of catching up for the House Cup. If the detention, no Hogsmeade, and all of your Housemates ragging on you for losing them points didn't keep you from touching the stone, then the endless cleaning of the Slytherin Commons and the Greenhouses _and _the Herbology classroom for the rest of the year would do the trick. Or at least he had hoped so.

Neville had punished several of the seventh years and a few first years before the message had gotten through. It had taken a little longer for the rule about talking about what you had seen in the monument in his classroom had set in. He had taken a lot of heat from the governors when he started to enforce those rules, but he pointed out that it was his right to enforce the rules that he had laid out at the beginning of the year and the students had fair warning of these rules and their consequences if they broke it.

Hermione had argued that what they were discussing was school related, as the monument was on school grounds and a part of their daily lives. He had countered that if her statement was true then it would also be acceptable to talk about snogging in the broom cupboards, as they were on school grounds and it was part of their daily lives. Needless to say, he won after that.

He was pulled out of his musings by Harry's shaking voice, "-have no clue as to how I got here! When I was hit by that sliver of the Killing Curse, I fell back onto the cloak and I could feel the stone and wand heat up. When I woke up I was found by Scorpius. That's all I know so far. But what has happened here? I've missed 25 years of history!"

Harry watched as Neville gathered his thoughts together. Trying to sum up 25 years of the world going on without him there to see it.

"Well, the first three years or so was all about rebuilding what we had lost. For awhile everything was ignored in favor of getting Hogwarts back into shape. After the war Diagon Alley was tore down completely and was rebuilt with even more businesses than before and is now called Infinite Alley. It's supposed to represent our infinite potential for the future but think that they wanted an alley that still was a play on words," he joked so that Harry would stop it with that dreadful frown.

"Um…. After everything was rebuilt life just went on as it always has for the most part. Lavender Brown is now the Matron in the Hospital Wing. Poppy sadly died in her sleep a couple years back after she was called in to help on a St. Mungo's case where she gave too much magic to save her patient. The man had been working on designing a new spell for something or another.

"Draco was offered the place of Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin but he turned it down in favor of starting his own Apothecary and built it into the only reliable Potions franchise in the British wizarding world.

"The Weasley family had a huge blow out fight. Fred and George no longer speak to the rest of the family. They backed the campaign that opposed the monument. And then the one later that argued for it to not be on school grounds.

"Ron and Hermione are now big players at the Minstery. Ron is an Auror… well he's an auror in name. They don't let him go on cases because they don't want him to die in the line of duty. It'd be bad press. Hermione is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts and sits on the Wizengamot. It's unprecedented because the Ministry is supposed to have limited control over Hogwarts. Normally it would be fine, the Malfoys had limited control over the Governors but large control over the Wizengamot. It was balanced. Hermione has top control in both bodies.

"Molly and Arthur split up. He was then promptly fired from his position at the Ministry. She lives in the lap of luxury, an entire manor to herself. He now lives in Egypt with Bill and Fleur.

"Charlie and Bill are doing the same as they always have. They don't talk to anyone over here anymore.

"Percy… Well, Percy was killed shortly after the battle by a Death Eater. He broke the Imperius that he was under. They had forced him to be their inside link to the Light side. They didn't want him to reveal any of there hideouts incase some did escape.

"Most of the Slytherins that weren't Death Eaters are ostracized my the community. All of the really young ones were taken to Mungo's for checks to make sure that they had no charms then released to their families.

"All the Gryfinndors that knew you have posh jobs. Well, the ones who supported the monument anyway. Colin works for the Prophet as a photographer. Dean and Seamus run a quidditch team. They all have jobs like that. And that about sums up the past twenty-five years," Neville finished with a sigh, hoping he hadn't left out anything important, but feeling like he had.

It killed him that after all the lives that were lost, the wizarding world hadn't changed very much at all. There was still prejudice against the majority of magical creatures. Several Pureblood families still despised the fact that their culture was being over-run by muggle influence, they were just better at hiding it.

But in a weird way, Neville was glad that the wizarding world was so stuck in its ways. It would be an easier transition for him. Seeing that his friend was tired, he gently pushed him back onto the bed and covered him with the blanket that was resting at the foot of the bed. Quietly exiting the room, Neville was faced with a common room containing every Slytherin under his care. It seemed like Scorpius had made sure that they would all be present for this speech.

"Earlier today Slytherin acquired a new guest. Resting in the seventh year boys' dormitory is a man who is a very dear friend of mine. Harry Potter." Neville waited until the chatter quieted down before continuing.

"As you all know, there never was any conclusive evidence about his death. I can promise you that the man is indeed Harry Potter. At this point it's uncertain how he got here, but soon news of him being here will get out. When this happens I want to make it clear that _no one_ but a Slytherin student is to allowed into these rooms. Do not wake him. Until further notice that room is off limits to everyone but Mr. Malfoy, is that clear?" The Professor waited until the mass of children in sitting around him had expressed that they understood.

A minute or so later, he pulled Scorpius over to the side. "Keep an eye on him. I have a bad feeling that he's going to have nightmares tonight."

The young man nodded slightly, making his way into the room as Professor started to transfigure cots for when the other seventh years needed to sleep that night. When he entered the room he gently levitated the bed closer to the one Harry was occupying. He lay down with the book in his hand, intending to pick up where he had left off, but unable to keep from staring at the man across from him until he drifted off to sleep as well.

**A/N: I'm back baby! Hope you enjoy the chapter. Also, thoughts on a possible rewrite of Inner Child? Tell me what you think please. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Harry Potter. I write for my own enjoyment and that of my readers. **

Fortuitous Find

Harry woke the next morning not remembering where he was. At first he thought he was in the Hospital Wing after the final battle and that everything from the day before had been a dream. Extreme in its tangibility and fantastically unreal logic, but a dream nevertheless.

But the bed was too soft to be in the Hospital Wing. The light was soft and comforting, but artificial. It didn't come from the floor to ceiling windows that were a part of the Hospital Wing.

The next thing he noticed was that someone was sleeping very close to him. They weren't in the same bed, but they were quite a bit closer than any bed in the hospital wing would be. He opened his eyes and saw the blond mop of hair no more than six or seven inches from his face. He tensed at first, his instinct telling him that Malfoy was lying near him. But these features were not as sharp. He had markers of someone else contributing to the basic makeup up of genes. Scorpius.

This wasn't a dream after all. At first this really didn't bother Harry. Soon after, though, the memory of that blasted stone that contained all of his worst memories and a few of the ones so good that they were too private to be shared… but they had been anyway. He didn't know how some of those memories had been put into the stone. Harry couldn't imagine the lengths they had to have gone to, to find and rip those memories from the places they had been embedded. To rip those memories out, just to place them in a stone was a sign of desperation, he thought. Desperation to stay one of the exalted war heroes.

These thoughts hurt and he was glad when Scorpius's eyes opened sleepily and stared at him for a moment, a small smile playing about the corners of his lips. It was like he thought he was still in his dreamland. This was reinforced when he slowly raised his hand to touch Harry's face. Smooth fingertips drifted down the side of his face. It took everything he had not to flinch, despite the fact the touch wasn't hostile. Realization dawned on the blond boy across from him.

" Not a dream," he whispered quietly to himself. Scorpius gently removed his hand from Harry's face, deliberately slow so he wouldn't be startled.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't believe…. I mean it was so…." he whispered once his hand was back on the bed. Scorpius blushed once he realized that he had caressed Harry's cheek. Harry stared at the pink flush crossing this pale skin; it occurred to him that he liked that look on him more than he should.

"It's okay," Harry whispered back, "I thought it was a dream too."

They both smiled gently at each other, neither saying anything or acknowledging how the incident between them could have escalated into something ugly. It wasn't very long before a careful knock brought them out of their little bubble of contentment.

"Scorpius? The Professor came down; he's having breakfast brought. He also promised he would be down to talk after classes," Zane explained softly from the other side.

"Thank you, Zane. I'll be out in a minute." Scorpius waited until the footsteps faded out of hearing, then he turned to Harry. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry stilled for a moment, then nodded. He remembered his dreams from the night before, the horrid memories of the war mixed with the new realizations that his friends had betrayed him. And then he remember how, in the middle of one of the dreams, a soothing presence had seemed to join him. The dream had slowly tapered off and changed into dreamless, deep sleep. The dream had lasted only a short while. In fact, last night had been the best rest he had had in a long time.

Scorpius smiled gently at the other man. At least his presence had helped some last night.

"I'm going to go talk to the others for a moment. I'll bring your breakfast back in with me. Do you need anything?" His concern was obvious in his voice.

"I'll be fine after I get something to eat." was the somewhat amused reply. It was amazing how different Scorpius was from his father.

Scorpius nodded before getting out of bed and walking to the foot of his bed, rummaging through his trunk so that he could change out of the clothes he had been wearing yesterday.

All the Slytherins were waiting out in the common room waiting for him. Moving with a quick efficiency that spoke of several years of the same routine, Scorpius checked each first year to make sure they had all their supplies and texts, along with their homework. As soon as he finished checking the first years, he moved on to the second and third years.

Harry watched unseen from the doorway as Scorpius weaved his way through the mass that was the three youngest classes, handing out spare quills, straightening ties and, on one occasion, braiding a little girl's hair for her. He had never seen anything like it before as a Gryffindor and he wondered if Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw did something like this too.

Not long after, Scorpius finished making his way through the children and shooed the entire House our of the common room. Harry observed half of the seventh years leading the way with the younger years following them. The rear of the group was brought up by the other half of the seventh years.

When Scorpius was the only one left in the house Harry stepped out of the door way.

"I've never seen something like that before." Harry said gesturing to the common room entrance.

"They don't do that in Gryffindor?"

"Not when I was there, no."

Before Scorpius could respond to the sad statement the House elves popped into the Common Room with a full breakfast. Harry's stomach rumbled at the mouth watering spread. The Slytherin smiled, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

They sat down together and dug in to the eggs, bacon, pancakes, and various other scrumptious foods before them. After they had both finished their quiet meal, they moved from the table to the comfortable couch in front of the fireplace.

Harry was the first one to break the silence, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Scorpius turned in his seat to look at Harry as they talked.

"Help the younger years. Hell, you even braided that little girl's hair for her. Why?"

Scorpius looked at Harry for a moment before asking him, "Why I do it as a Slytherin or why I do it as a person?"

"Both."

"Well, as a Slytherin I do it for house pride. We present a untied front; it wouldn't do for a Slytherin student to go to class without the proper supplies or an untidy appearance. It is good for the house if they always have their homework and the upper years check over it each night before curfew.

"As a person I do it because Hogwarts can be a scary place the first couple years. Most children raised in the magical community don't meet many other children until Hogwarts. Suddenly they are thrust into this school with more people than they have seen in their entire lives.

"Now they have homework and responsibilities. Several of them have never been away from their families. They need someone to look after them and make sure that they are okay." Scorpius sighed after his speech.

Harry didn't say anything. He simply stared into the fireplace.

"When I was a first year, Gryffindor didn't do that. It was sink or swim. I didn't understand anything, unlike Granger I hadn't had the chance to read up on classes. But I was the savior. No one thought to ask if I knew anything about magic, they just assumed that I did."

Scorpius didn't know what to say to a grown man who had tears streaming silently down his face. He only knew what he had done in the past for crying first years who were homesick. So he scooted across the couch and gently pulled the other man into a hug. Harry broke down even further.

Now it wasn't just about his first years in Hogwarts. It was about his childhood. It was about his first friends' betrayal. It was about all the lives that were lost in the war and everything he had missed in those 25 years he had been 'gone'.

Slowly the quiet sobs trailed off and Harry fell asleep. During his crying, Harry had slipped down from Scorpius's shoulder to his chest. So Scorpius gently moved him so that his head was lying on Scorpius's lap.

Summoning a book from the shelves across the room, he opened it and settled in to read, his fingers unconsciously running through the other's hair.

**A/N: And there you go. Finally another chapter ready for your enjoyment. I think from now on I'm going to write my stories in advance. I hate making you all wait forever because I get writer's block. I'm really proud of this chapter, it might not look like a lot is going on, but it's really bring them closer together. ****Merry Christmas Everyone!**


End file.
